


When the Snow Falls in Detroit

by thedragonkween



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-06-18 19:12:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15492753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedragonkween/pseuds/thedragonkween
Summary: A collection of reader insert oneshots with various characters from Detroit: Become Human. Mainly Connor, with hints of Simon, Gavin, and in the future, Markus.Because as the snow falls in Detroit, so do you in the arms of your love.





	1. Warmth [Connor RK800 x Reader]

**Author's Note:**

> I'm in the process of transferring all the oneshots of Detroit Become Human I wrote from Tumblr. They are all already on my blog (@thedragonkween), and I will also add them here. This is the first one, in which you and Connor kiss.

And then his lips. It was…different from what you’d imagined. They didn’t feel like human flesh, no, but they were soft, and strangely warm considering the rigid weather in which you were basked. At first it was just that, a shy, ticklish brush of lips, so delicate that you could hardly tell it was there.

But you needed more. Your hands delicately went to stroke his cheeks as he pressed his lips against yours and his arms held you close to him for dear life, not wanting to let go of this fulfilling moment. Android, human…did it matter anymore? There are spells greater than fear and older than the moon, spells that can’t tell the difference between flesh or bone or blood and that even science can’t explain.

The incredulous whispers and gasps of the people around you were but distant echoes of past insecurities. Connor moved his lips against yours so gently that you sighed in completion, and he must have liked it because his arms _squeezed_ you even tighter against his strong figure. Who could have thought that he had this in him? This sweetness, this adoring energy and the gentleness to caress his one so lovingly. He could be both the ray of sunshine that made a bud grow, or the ruthless wind that swept it away.

Your hand found the back of his neck, where it melted with short hair and you pushed him closer, _closer_ than physically possible, your neck tilted up to reach him better. And you loved and kissed him so much that it was stars and light and the freshness of hay and the purity of crystal snow. Your heart cried against your chest, beating and screaming or was it his? Maybe it was just the dreamy haze of the moment, or maybe they were really beating in unison chest to chest, human and Android reaching out to each other in a song that had never been sung before.

Hank’ s eyes were glowing as he watched the two of you, so sweetly embraced. His smile was a stark contrast against the bewildered gaping of the people who, for the first time, witnessed an act of love before considered unthinkable. “Fucking disgusting…” he cursed and shook his head, but his chuckle betrayed his happiness.

You looked up into Connor’ s eyes, so _warm_ and _brown_ and _alive_ that they ignited your very soul back to life. Every freckle, every crease of his skin, up to the strong line of his jaw, were forever engraved in your memory.

“Can I ask you a personal question, (Y/N)?” He murmured, eyes shining so bright even the sun couldn’t compare. You tapped the tip of your nose against his playfully.

“Shoot”.

He leaned over and whispered it in you ear, and you giggled like a child that had just found a jar of cookies.

You briefly stood on your tiptoes and pecked his lips quickly, then answered.


	2. Of Pans and Forgotten Dinners [Connor RK800 x Reader]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’re Hank’s child, and to lift your spirits when you’re tired after an evening of work, Connor decides to cook you dinner. However, you’ll end up eating an entirely different kind of meal. Slightly NSFW.

When you woke up from your nap, you didn’t expect the delicious smell of bacon to welcome you back into reality. Fighting the drowsiness that still clung to you, you sat up on your bed and yawned. The only other person, or android, in the house was Connor, who had kindly accompanied you home after you had finished your shift at the department. You were so tired that as soon as you were home, you barely had the time to change into your old-fashioned Avengers pajamas before falling to your bed in desperate need for rest.

At first, Connor had stayed by your side, gently caressing your hair as you closed your eyes and slowly fell asleep to his touch. Since you had declared that you’d only take a quick nap to regain some strength before ordering something to eat, he got an idea. Was there a best way to wake up the love of his life rather than him cooking dinner himself?

So that was why, when you entered the kitchen, you found him bent over the stove, flipping bacon in a pan.

But it was how he was dressed that stole all sense of reason.

He had taken off his jacket and tie, which lay neatly folded on a chair nearby, remaining only with his thin, white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Instead of his usual jeans, he had put on a pair of loose black pants that hung tentatively low. Perhaps they had loosened even more due to his frantic movements trying not to burn everything.

You had never seen him dressed like this. This was quite the shock, considering his usual formal attire, but you were not complaining one bit. In fact, you found that your mouth was watering, but not due to the food that your boyfriend was cooking for you.

Then it hit you. _My boyfriend. Is cooking dinner for me. In nothing but that shirt and a pair of pants._ Ugh.

When he sensed your presence, he turned around, and _that_ was the moment your sanity said goodbye forever. His brown eyes were lit with joy, and that rebellious lock of hair was out of place again.

“You’re awake!”, he chirped happily. “I tried cooking something for you. Actually, I don’t have enough data to do this properly, but-“

“Who…who gave you the _right_ ,” you interrupted him, absolutely livid, “to stand here in my kitchen looking like…like…”

He looked dumbfounded for a moment, but then he smirked. He _smirked_.

“A snack?”

Your mouth distorted in indignation, “where did you even learn that expression?”

“You pick up a thing or two, when you have to witness a drunk Hank wooing women in bars”.

“I am never going to leave the two of you alone in a pub ever again”.

He put the pan down and fucking sat on the counter, his thighs slightly apart as he adjusted himself on that new spot. When he was satisfied, he tilted his head, his eyes two narrow slits and his mouth slightly open in a devilish grin.

You were just now beginning to process how fast the situation was escalating. You tried not to focus on his deliciously exposed forearms, but then he gestured to the dish laying forgotten on the table and his muscles flexed. You could have sobbed.

"So? Are you not going to eat?” He had the nerve to sound almost _offended_ , “I cooked just for you”.

That was it. You stomped over to where he was, making sure to look as menacing as your pajamas made possible, but you were still to tired and so you stumbled over a chair in the process. So much for looking threatening. He remained perfectly still and he very much reminded you of the marble statues of ancient Greece.

“Do you know”, you hissed, because you were hungry and tired and you just wanted to sleep but he was making it utterly impossible, “that it is illegal to tempt young women like that? Hm?” By now, you were facing him, but due to him sitting on the counter you came face to face with his insanely see-through shirt, opened enough to let you peek at his pectorals, but not enough to admire their full beauty. You slowly tilted your head up.

And he was still smirking.

“I just want you to eat your dinner”, he shrugged, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, and he just an innocent angel who hand’t the slightest idea of what he was doing to you.

Oh, he was in so much trouble.

You climbed on the counter on top of him, knocking a poor pan or two in the process, which clattered to the floor. Sumo barked weakly.

“Do you intend to destroy your house?”

Evidently, the murderous look you gave him was not enough to warn the little shit that if he didn’t stop _now_ -

“Hank had just bought that pan, you kn-“ you slammed your lips against his so hard that he had to hold onto the counter for dear life to balance himself and you on the precarious surface to keep you from falling and destroying anything else.

He had angered you. You were exhausted. All you wanted was to have a quiet evening sprawled on your bed, with a stomach full of takeout pizza and loud music blasting directly into your brain. And he had ruined it all,

awakening a fire in your belly that pushed your entire being to wanting to perform activities which were, in all honesty, quite the opposite.

That kiss was all teeth and biting and pulling until you were too out of breath to continue. There was no time to savor every bite slowly, but only to devour him like he was the most delicious dish in the world. And he let you. When you licked his tongue luxuriously, he rewarded you with a sound too similar to a moan to be considered innocent. Surely the deviancy had changed the boy. But oh, you were not complaining.

You sucked his bottom lip voraciously before pulling away, releasing his lips with a loud pop.

"Should we-”, when did you get so out of breath? “Should we continue somewhere else?” You managed in between breathy whispers.

This time, it was him who attacked your neck, his LED flashing yellow.

“Connor-“ He was sucking mercilessly at the tender skin in that spot that made you go _crazy_. If he didn’t stop, you knew a hickey would sprout and if your father saw that then- but it felt _so good_ , you just couldn’t bring yourself to stop him.

“Hm?” He purred against your skin.

“If my dad arrives…” you found that the android stole even your ability to form a coherent thought. You would have let him devour you right on that counter, but Hank could have returned at any moment now.

“Oh.” He finally let go, looking like a puppy that had just disappointed his owner. “What about the couch?”

“Not in front of Sumo, Connor!”, you turned around to see the sweet dog sleeping in his usual spot. “I have a room, you know!”

You climbed off of him and straightened your shirt, then you took your boyfriend’s hand and literally yanked him along with you to your room. As soon as the door was closed, you pushed him on your bed and straddled him. He let you do as you wished, but the mischievous light in his brown doe eyes told you that maybe you were going to pay for your bossy attitude. You could only hope. The last thing you saw before diving into his mouth was the flickering red light of his LED. 

***

When Hank opened the door to his house, he knew he shouldn’t have left in the first place.

“What the fuck happened here?”

A quick look around the kitchen and he instantly understood. There were kitchen tools scattered everywhere on the counter, along with a pan filled with burned bacon and another dish on the table, still untouched. _Those two_!

“Honestly? Can’t you two at least not fuck in front of my dog?!”

Hank plopped down on his couch with a sigh, a bottle of beer already in hand.

“Come, Sumo,” the dog cuddled on the couch next to his owner, placing his head on Hank’s knees. “Good dog. Bite off his plastic dick if they do this to you again.” He took a swig of his beer and patted the dog, trying not to think about what his baby and that android were doing.


	3. Serendipity [Gavin Reed x Reader ]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin’s asshole exterior crumbles when he finds himself doing little acts of kindness towards you, who in return start to experience a new feeling for your colleague.

It started with a spark. You didn’t pay much attention to it until it was too late and oh, were you fucked. See, you just wanted to finish your paperwork before it was too late. You spent your afternoon tapping furiously on your keyboard, scribbling some messy notes away on several sheets of paper, sipping coffee and only standing up to go to the bathroom. At some point, you had grown so irritable that even Hank had given up on convincing you to eat some fucking food worthy of its name or taking a minute to rest, but you just shooed him away with an angry wave of your hand. You’d have to apologize later, but the load of work was too much to even consider getting your ass up from the chair, so that had to wait.

You didn’t even notice Gavin approaching until he was tapping on your computer screen, successfully closing the tabs of your most recent case and making you look up at him with murder in your eyes. The fucker was _this_ close to getting a bullet between his eyes.

“What do you- oh.” A steaming cup of coffee hovered before your nose.

“You haven’t eaten in hours. Thought I might as well bring you this, Princess.”

The mocking tone of his voice, paired with that silly fucking nickname he’d given you, almost threw you over the edge. Almost. Instead, you snatched the coffee from his grasp, putting it down on your desk with such force that some of it spilled dangerously close to your papers. Gavin was quick enough to shove them past the coffee’s reach, saving them from ultimate demise. You side eyed him. Oh, you were _not_ going to thank Gavin Reed.

“What’s up, Gavin? Feeling like a decent human being all of a sudden?”

He scoffed. “It’s only because if you don’t finish your boring ass paperwork before tomorrow, I’ll have to do it. So do yourself a favor and drink this before you pass out, _Princess_.” He stressed the nickname just to annoy you, but something in your gut told you he enjoyed calling you that.

“Yeah, sure. Now get the fuck away from my face.”

As he shook his head and returned to his desk, you eyed the small digital clock on your computer. 22.49. You sighed, and returned to your routine of tapping and writing.

A hand nudged your shoulder gently. “Detective (L/n)? It’s time to go home.”

RK900 was looking down at you, his misty grey eyes holding just the tiniest bit of concern. You groggily stroked your eyes, suddenly aware of the fact that you’d fallen asleep on your desk, your cheek sore from resting on the keyboard. 

“Shit. What time is it, Cyrus?” you straightened your back, and that was when you noticed it. Someone had placed their brown jacket on your shoulders while you were asleep, and judging by its size (it covered your shoulders completely and hung loosely from your form) it must have been a man’s. But whose? Hank was the first person that came to your mind, but still you were reluctant to believe that he’d do such a thing.

“One thirty.” Cyrus noticed you fumbling with the mysterious jacket and added: “Detective Reed thought it’d be wise to give you his jacket, since you were shivering and it was getting late.”

“ _What_?”

There was _no_ way that fucker could’ve done this. It went beyond everything his instincts allowed. And yet here you were, driving home, donning that same article of clothing that caused such a turmoil in your heart. Because you couldn’t help but imagine how it happened. Gavin seeing you slumped and asleep on your desk, loaded with paperwork. Him approaching you, watching you sleep peacefully, but with a slight tremble. Him muttering a muffled ‘shit’ before taking off his jacket, only to place it on your shoulders, careful not to wake you.

But most of all, you hated that it was painfully comfortable and warm, and that the smell of Gavin’s ridiculous cologne all over it didn’t bother you.

First the coffee, then the jacket. And thus the spark was born.

***

The next morning, Gavin had to show up earlier than usual at the precinct (and with a new jacket) to make up for your unfinished paperwork. He told himself that he was doing it only because he didn’t want to face Fowler’s wrath, that the sooner he did it, the sooner he could go home and…and what? Just so he could lay on his couch, alone with his thoughts and his cat? So he could think about how miserable and alone he really was? He had a date, a night or two ago. She was beautiful and intelligent, with a charming smile and warm eyes, and he brought her home to fuck her into oblivion.

He couldn’t even bring himself to kiss her and sent her away without a second thought. He hated himself for letting such a girl go. He hated himself because no matter how many girls he dated, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Every time he closed his eyes, the image of your lovely fucking face would haunt him, taking his breath away.

He hated himself for being such a dick, because he knew you’d never date a man like him. No, you were too good and kind and badass for a loser like he was. And no matter how hard he tried to be a better person in your presence - you’d just steal his heart over and over with your pretty eyes and ridiculously kissable lips, and he’d revert to asshole mode to try and control his emotions.

He’d never been so head over heels for somebody.

“Detective Reed? We should get to work.” God, why did Cyrus have to be so annoying?

“Let me get a coffee first, tin can.” And with that, he headed over to the small kitchen of the precinct, the android following him like a shadow. Gavin had given up telling him to stop doing it a long time ago.

The brunet started pouring himself a cup of coffee from the green machine, already savoring its taste. He heard the door of the office open and he lazily looked up from the cup out of pure curiosity to see who it was. 

He almost choked when he saw you strode into the precinct, confident as always. You were wearing his jacket. You were wearing his jacket, and he almost died at how hot you looked in it.

He only noticed he was gaping when Cyrus placed two fingers under his chin, closing his mouth.

“Detective Reed, your coffee is-“

“Shut up, prick! Can’t you see I’m busy!” Gavin was so intent in looking at you, getting comfortable in your desk, his jacket still on you, so unbelievably hot that he couldn’t stop imagining you wearing one of his shirts with nothing else on after you and him had just-

The coffee overflowed from the cup, spilling on the counter and pooling down at his feet, making a mess in the kitchen. It didn’t help that it was quite hot, and Gavin hissed as it burned his hand.

“Ah, fuck! You could’ve warned me, you fucking prick!” Gavin stepped away from the counter but it was too late - he’d already made a fool of himself. And you’d seen all of it.

If the social relations protocol Cyrus was equipped with allowed it, he would’ve facepalmed so hard he’d be upgraded to RK1000, but instead he just stayed still, wondering what he’d done to be paired with such a problematic human.

“Do you want to know the probability of detective (L/n) accepting to go on a date with you?” Gavin hated how unfazed Cyrus sounded.

“No - I don’t fucking need you to teach me how to attract girls!” Gavin was practically shouting right now, but the poor souls who dared look at him were met with a murderous glare that wiped those amused smirks away from their faces.

“I wasn’t teaching you anything. My point was that-”

“What the hell is going on here?”

Gavin’s ire vanished as soon as you came into the kitchen, his eyes softening the moment he laid his gaze on you. God, you were even more gorgeous up close. He could get used to you wearing his clothes.

“Nothing relevant, just fucking tin can over here was trying to teach me a life lesson.” He tried to keep his cool, but it was difficult when you looked at him like that. When you began to take off his jacket, his heart skipped a beat. “Hey, what are you doing?”

You looked quizzically at him. “Giving you your jacket back. Yours has coffee stains all over it and plus, this belongs to you.”

You handed the jacket to him, and Gavin found the courage to place one clumsy hand over yours. “Keep it. It -ah, you may still need it. It’s, kinda cold these days.” When you still wouldn’t move, he added: “Princess.” in hopes of irritating you enough to listen to him. It surprisingly worked.

“Fine, I’ll keep it. But only if you stop with that fucking ‘Princess’ thing!”

He smirked. “Would you rather ‘ _kitten_ ’?”

He loved that you blushed and tried to cover it by grimacing. “Gross. Let’s stick to ‘Princess’, then.”

“Alright. Get a move on and fucking do your job then, Princess.”

He watched as you rolled your eyes and exited the kitchen, his chest hadn’t felt this warm in ages.

Maybe, just maybe, one day you could be his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since many people asked for it on tumblr, a part 2 of this is in the works!


	4. Serendipity - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Destiny or not, those two were meant to find each other.

Gavin took a bite of his chocolate and strawberry donut, chewing and gulping it down as if it was molten lead. The morning couldn’t have started in a worse way. Another bite, and he almost choked. Your laugh, your cheerful, musical laugh was the most lovely sound in the world, but it felt like a knife had sunk deep in his entrails, twisting and turning with every word you spoke to that prick of an RK800. 

Gavin had deliberately chosen a seat at the kitchen of the precinct that would have him face the wall, his back turned to you and the perfect android. He knew that you were friends with Connor and his wannabe dad Hank, which left him all the more antsy and frustrated at how much time you spent with them, not to mention you possibly having a...crush on that fucking tin can. What did that plastic asshole have that he didn’t? But then again... there was an ocean between him and Connor. 

The RK800 was nothing short of perfect, with his graceful manners (well, except when he licked stuff to analyse it), stunningly symmetrical face and gentle demeanor. Then there was him. He knew that everyone except his cat couldn’t stand him. That nobody would have never been able to see right through his asshole exterior. That he was destined to see the woman he cared so much for be whisked away by someone else, someone that wasn’t even human. What chance did he have against a perfect android like Connor? At least he doesn’t have a dick, he thought, and somehow that made him feel a little better.

“On the contrary, Detective Reed, the RK800 series is equipped with completely operative genitalia in order to-” 

“Oh shut up, you prick!” Had he really said the words out loud? “You’re not making me feel better, Cyrus.” 

The RK900, who sat just beside him, shot him a strange look, but Gavin just shrugged it off. No use in arguing with him. 

He wished he could drown out your joyful voice as you spoke of some funny tv show, but he just couldn’t. You were the flame, and he the moth that would surely burn in your fire, just as Icarus flew too close to the sun and fell to his death. Then, because he couldn’t resist, he threw a look over his shoulder, finding your stunning face in no time. Smiling, joking, just happy. He turned away before you could spot him and see how miserable he looked.

He took the last bite of the donut between his fingers, ignoring Cyrus’ prying eyes. Fucking androids. He chewed and gulped again, cursing his heart and you for being so unbelievably cute. You’d stopped talking in the meantime, which was good. That way, he could ignore the fact that he was head over heels for you by pretending that you weren’t there. 

Suddenly, a playful pat on his back made him choke on his donut, falling into a coughing fit. “What the fuck-” He turned, ready to beat the fucker who’d done this to a pulp, when your beautiful, but worried eyes came into his line of vision and his heart straight up stopped. He immediately felt like garbage, left in the sun and run over multiple times garbage, so he looked down to the cup of coffee in your petite and pretty hand to avoid your gaze. 

“Are you okay, Gavin?” Your angelic voice hesitated, your hand caressing his back more gently this time. Your touch set him on fire, and he prayed that his stubble would conceal his blush. Oh, how he wished to feel you caressing him like that every day of his life. He was glad that he risked looking up at your face, because you bit your lip and shyly looked away. He found your messy ponytail particularly endearing, moreso when a couple of rebellious strands framed your face just the right way to make you look even more radiant. The things he would have done to you. “I- I just wanted to bring you this. You know, you bought me one the other day and I thought it’d be nice to reciprocate.” 

Your hand placed the coffee in front of him on the table, the rich smell making his mouth water. Or maybe it was that fucking skirt you were wearing. How dare you show up at work like that? Did you not know how many criminals could take advantage of such a pretty girl? 

“Do you not want it?” You stammered, biting your nail. God, was he staring again?

Of course he wanted it, and he told you. “Thank you, Princess.” He hated to admit that your simple gesture had warmed his entire being, making him forget about his jealousy. Because even when you were talking with Connor, you’d thought of him. The only other thing he hoped was that you didn’t act out of pity, but you weren’t that kind of girl. Another reason why he liked you. 

He loved how your eyes shone after he thanked you, and he dared hope that it was also partly due to him using his pet name for you. “Well then, I’ll be working at my desk, if you need me.”

And with that, you were gone, that fucking skirt fluttering behind you oh so adorably as you made your way towards you workplace without looking back. 

“She likes you.” Cyrus chimed in, his voice calm as usual. “You should have seen her heart rate.”

“You think so?” Gavin mentally scolded himself for sounding so desperate, and added: “I mean, she probably just did it ‘cause she’s so fucking kind to everyone". 

“Maybe. But my social relations program is infallible". 

“Yeah, whatever.” Gavin tried to sound casual, even raising his cup as high as he could to hide his beaming smile while gulping the coffee down. He was confident that it was the best he’d ever tasted. Maybe, that wasn’t such a shitty morning as he thought.

_*_

Finally, you typed the last word of your report and waited for it to save automatically, letting out a relieved sigh when it was done. Your throbbing headache was begging for mercy and for an evening of peace and quiet, and you had nor the time nor the energy to do much else but to slouch on your bed with cheap pizza and sappy dramas. The perfect company for the perfect Friday night. 

You began stuffing your bag with the pens, tissues and variety of papers that littered your desk, doing it as quickly as your tired limbs could manage. Unlike a couple of nights ago, you’d managed to finish your job at a more decent hour, but the darkness outside reminded you of how late it really was. 

Letting your hair loose and adjusting your skirt, only one thing remained. You welcomed the warm embrace of Gavin’s jacket on your shoulders, the material already shielding you from the unforgiving weather of Detroit winter. You liked that it still smelled of aftershave and pine. 

Apart from you, Gavin and Cyrus were the only ones to occupy the precinct. They were a couple of desks in front of you, with Gavin sitting at his chair and the android on the desk itself. You could hear Gavin excitedly tell the story of that time he got into a fight with a criminal and won, successfully arresting him. 

Grabbing your bag, you shook your head and smiled. He never got tired of telling that story, and you knew it by heart now. 

You wondered why you had the odd urge to check how you looked before wishing the two partners goodbye, and subconsciously tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear as you walked towards them. 

Gavin spun in his seat as soon as he heard your shoes clicking on the floor, his green eyes surrounded by dark circles brightening ever so slightly. “Going home, Princess?” 

“Yeah." you confirmed, hoisting your bag over your shoulder while thinking on how to fill the awkward silence that followed. God, why did you have to act like a stupid teenage girl talking to her crush? 

Apparently, you didn’t need to do it. 

It happened in no more than a heartbeat, but you saw it: Gavin’s eyes flickering to Cyrus’ ones, who gave him an imperceptible nod. Surely, they were up to something. They’d been partners for too long for that exchange to be considered innocent. 

Gavin tapped his fingers onto the desk, a gesture he did when he was nervous or thinking about his next move. Your heart jumped after he spoke. “(Y/n), I was thinking...do you have any plans for tonight?”

He didn’t call you “Princess”. A wave of disappointment washed over you, but it was quickly replaced by giddiness and a strange excitement at his words. “I have a very romantic date with my computer and pizza scheduled. Why do you ask?”

Gavin hesitated, looking at Cyrus one more time for encouragement. “Do you want to come over to my apartment? I have the new season of ‘To Become Human’ on Netflix”. 

How did he know it was your favourite tv show? The boy was full of surprises. You really didn’t have much to do at home, and the prospect of visiting Gavin’s home was thrilling. “You surely know how to lure a lady in. I hope you know I can get a bit fangirly, though.” 

He laughed. A beautiful, sincere, warm laugh that sucked all your tiredness away to replace it with longing. A longing that you were just beginning to understand, but that dominated you with such a potency that it left you breathless at how you wanted to hold him close to you. “I think I can handle it.” 

And that was why you followed Gavin into his car, leaving a smirking Cyrus behind, and were headed towards the former’s house. Surprisingly, the ride there wasn’t awkward at all: Gavin had an old CD or two to show you and it turned out that you liked them, and you spent the fifteen minutes it took to drive you home talking about your tastes in music and the like. 

Gavin finally pulled over in front of a nice little house with a neat garden at the front. You didn’t think Gavin was the type to care about such things, but as you walked up the path that led to the door, you were pleasantly surprised by how well-kept it was. You even saw a bowl with cat food outside a window, surely meant for the few strays that littered that area of Detroit. How thoughtful of him. 

You waited patiently as Gavin rustled with the keys to open the front door, and curiously followed him inside when he was done.

“Make yourself at home.” Gavin said as he went into the kitchen to prepare something on the counter. 

First you saw the living room and the flat screen tv that stood before the sofa: it was a bit messy, with a couple of empty Chinese food boxes that littered the floor, but overall you liked it. He had a small library and even a guitar resting on the wall. 

“Your house is really nice". Probably Gavin didn’t hear you because he kept on doing whatever he was occupied with, but before you could repeat your compliment a family photo on a bookshelf distracted you. A young Gavin was smiling on the beach as another young boy made a sand castle with him. You were just about to ask him who the other boy was, when he said something that startled you to your very core. 

“Come to daddy, Princess". 

You froze.

What the fuck? Nicknaming you ‘Princess’ was one thing, but to come this far! How dare he?! And how dare you blush like that? You could practically feel your every litre of blood running to your cheeks and ears, where you could hear it drumming furiously. 

You stood there, facing the wall while trying to steady your breathing and god forbid your mind for thinking about the many things he could do to you and his heavenly raspy voice and his hands on your -

“What a good girl.” 

This needed to stop right now. Taking a breath to give you courage, you turned around to beat some sense into him, but that wasn’t what you expected. 

His cat. He was cuddling his cat. To his chest. On the sofa. And the cat was purring and meowing in pure delight.

Then it hit you.

“You nicknamed me... after your own fucking cat?” 

You almost laughed at the way he jumped from the sofa, the cat - Princess, apparently - falling from his arms with a hiss. 

“What the- no, I mean, okay, maybe, so?” He then didn’t wait for your response as he picked up the cat, mumbling sweet nothings into her fur to apologize for letting her fall.

Of all the things you imagined about Gavin Reed, the last was that he owned a cat, that said cat was named Princess, and that he had chosen the same epithet for you. 

The whole things was ridiculous enough, yet you couldn’t help but approach the two, reaching out a hand to the pet that was so...adorably cuddled into her owner’s arms. And adorable was Gavin’s smile as he scratched Princess’ chin with his index, leaving you shocked at how sweet Gavin could really be. At how you wished he would caress you in the same way. 

You carefully reached out a hand to stroke the cat gently, noticing that her fur was a color you always found particularly beautiful on cats. Her green eyes (so strikingly similar to Gavin’s) studied you with curiosity for a moment, then she let out a soft meow. 

“She likes you.” 

“Hell, she’d like anyone after having you as an owner.” You realized that comment could have been hurtful only after you’d said it. “I mean, well, probably she likes-"

Gavin’s eyes snapped to yours, freezing and melting you at all once. You were a bit terrified by how much he’d grown on you. He sighed. “(Y/n)...what do you think of me?” 

Oh. That caught you off guard. 

What did you think of him? That before he was an asshole, but now you’d gladly let him stroke your hair just as he did his cat’s while you told each other about your lives? That everything you thought about Gavin Reed was false? Hell, yes. But could you say that? No. 

“I think you’re a capable detective and a sensitive man.” You’d never dreamed of describing Gavin Reed as sensitive before, but the small acts of kindness he showed you, as well as the fact that he invited you to come over out of the blue, changed your mind on that. Hopefully, he’d mistake the crack in your voice for tiredness. 

He snorted. “Is that so?” He put Princess down, more carefully this time, and sat on the sofa. “Really, I thought…” 

You sat beside him, rather annoyed by how he shook his head. “You thought, what?” 

When he still wouldn’t answer, you pushed your luck and gently placed a hand on his thigh. “Please, tell me". 

Suddenly, he was looking into your eyes with such intensity that you could physically feel his sorrow sink into your soul. Those magnificent greens held a thousand stories, stories of pain and sadness and loss, stories that you prayed to have the honour of listening every night and day of your life, to fill those eyes with love and healing and joy. He deserved as much, for being the broken man that he was. And you needed him just as desperately. 

You didn’t know if the silence that followed lasted a minute or two or an hour, but when he began talking, you had ears and eyes for him only. 

“I wish you could see me for who I really am. I wish you could just...understand that I’m more than the asshole everyone makes me out to be. But I’m always grumpy, and insufferable, and annoying, and lonely. You’re right. I’m a mess, and because of you. You have this effect on me, it’s like I forget everything I’ve ever learned, I forget who I am, I forget that you could never...love someone like me.” 

Slowly, your hand went to rest on his cheek, his stubble tickling ever so slightly. “I do.” 

He looked genuinely stunned. “...What?” 

“Why do you think I brought you coffee this morning? It may seem nothing to somebody else, but not to me. You may be an asshole, but not to me. You gave me your jacket when I was cold, you were the one to buy me coffee first, heck, you invited me over and showed me kindness. You know what I really think of you?”

There was a brief silence. Then you spoke.

“I think you have a heart of gold, Gavin Reed. Never forget that.” 

No more words were needed as he took your face in his hands and kissed you like a starved man. There was nothing gentle in that kiss, only desperation and hunger. You grabbed a fistful of his shirt while your other hand was busy scratching the nape of his neck as you held him closer than humanly possible to you. At some point, he must’ve pushed you down into the sofa because you were trapped under his body and at the mercy of his aggressive affection as his lips moved confidently against your own. 

This was like nothing you’d ever felt, ever conceived or imagined. This was fire, scorching and unforgiving and dangerous and beautiful. 

As his feverish skin burned your own, you let that fire consume you. 

_*_

Warmth. You snuggled closer to the source of heat, a soft and comfortable pillow. It hugged your form closely, bathing you in a sense of safety. It seemed to pulsate softly in unison with your breathing, and when you dipped your nose into the soft cotton, it tightened his hold on you with a sleepy mumble. Gavin had such strange pillows...Gavin…

Gavin! Opening your eyes, your brain was finally able to register the fact that you were cuddling Gavin fucking Reed. In his own bed. And it wasn’t a simple head-on-shoulder kind of cuddling, no, it was more of a entwined-legs and head-against-chest one. You hated yourself for enjoying it. For never wanting to untangle his arms from around you. One of which rested on your waist, keeping you close to him, while his other hand was entangled in your hair, your head resting on his bicep. 

Peeking at his face, he was still asleep. Good. So he hadn’t noticed your awkward position yet. Shifting your head to take a better look at him, you were surprised at how...angelic he looked in sleep. He didn’t even snore. Eyes closed, dark lashes and eyebrows fluttering slightly due to your own breathing falling on him, and his lips...You told yourself that you only found them inviting and supple just because they weren’t twisted in that usual cocky smirk. 

Reluctantly, you moved a small hand from the warmth of his chest to his nose, were his scar resided. You’d never admit it, but it was quite endearing. You found yourself wanting to know how he got it. Holding your breath, you shily raised an index and traced the scar delicately, your touch feather-like so as not to wake him. The skin there was smoother and of a pinkish colour, which suggested that maybe the cut had healed poorly. 

Your were so caught up in admiring him that when one of his beautiful green eyes opened, you gasped and tried to cover your staring by pretending to be asleep. It was no use - he noticed your awful facade and chuckled warmly. 

“Morning, baby". God, his raspy, gruff morning voice did inexplicable things to you. Things that made your insides coil and heat creep through your folds. 

“Morning, Gah-!” With a strength you didn’t know he had, paired with the iron grip he was holding you in, he hauled you up onto him in one swift movement, so that now you were resting on top of him, one leg between his and hands on his chest. You blushed when you felt something hard poke your pelvis, and his arrogant smirk confirmed your suspicions about it being his morning wood. Had he really no shame? 

“We- we have to get to work.” 

“Mhmh.” 

“Gavin".

“Mmyes?”

“Stop grabbing my ass and let me get up!” You tried to free your leg, but he only tightened his grip on you, burying his face in the crook of your neck to nip and suck your skin to his heart’s content. 

“Cyrus...he’s waiting for us!” you moaned when his hands squeezed your ass, his lips releasing the skin of your neck with a loud pop. 

“Well, Cyrus can go fuck himself. He can’t keep me from spending time with my girlfriend”. 

You laughed, finally managing to sit up so that now you were straddling him. You had the feeling that he let you wriggle away just so he could admire the view of you, with no bra and his shirt on. “And who the fuck decided I’m your girlfriend?”

“Well, let’s see…” One of his hands released your ass and travelled to your face, his slender fingers tickling your cheek. You loved the feeling of his hands, rough and calloused after years of handling guns and fighting. You let him press his thumb to your plump lower lip, stroking and playing with it. “You’re in my bed, you’re wearing my clothes, you’re letting me touch you and - fuck, (Y/n)!”

He was interrupted due to you biting his thumb playfully, giving him a wink in victory. “Letting you do what?”

He chuckled, the vibration of his chest sending sparks to your core. “What a fierce kitten”, he took your smaller hand in his, closing his eyes and kissing your knuckles tenderly. “I like it.”

And there it was again. Once a little spark, now a furious blaze that willed your soul back to life after years of loneliness and heartbreak. What madness had prompted you into falling in love with Gavin Reed? The asshole detective who had always a thing or two or twenty to say in order to piss you off. The former android hater. Because yes, you were absolutely sure that whatever he felt for Cyrus, he didn’t hate him - not anymore. And you? What were your feelings for this man? When he opened his eyes again, so green and sweet and warm, you knew. 

And as you leaned down, crashing your lips onto his, you let that fire engulf you once more.


	5. Piacere [Connor RK800 x Reader]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor puts his state-of-the-art android mouth to work and proceeds to eat you out.

“Please”, he begs, looking up at you with those big brown eyes of his. “Please, let me taste you”. 

How can you possibly refuse? Even if you wanted to, you wouldn’t have been able to resist his puppy eyes. He is the one begging you, but with those eyes…you are putty in his hands.

You timidly open your legs, nodding sweetly. You can’t help but feel a little self-conscious under his analytical gaze, but then his mouth parts in adoration and shyness quickly turns into desire. 

Before he dives into you, his eyes dart from your velvet to look up at you, bearing a silent question. May I? Overwhelmed by his gentleness, you bring your hand to his face, delicately stroking his cheekbone with your thumb. Go ahead. 

He is shy at first, kissing your petals with utmost care, tickling your skin. He continues until the teasing has you writhing on the sheets and your soft cries turn into insistent pleas, your being aching for more contact, more skin, more. Your twisting does wonders to his confidence, because soon the heavenly feel of his tongue joins his lips on his mission of pleasuring you. 

But then his lips close around your bud and he starts sucking, causing your legs to shake and your hips to instinctively arch against his mouth, allowing him to do with your body as he wishes. Your soft moans spur him on like mad, and when you open your eyes- when exactly had they closed?- to stroke his hair, telling him how good he is making you feel, he is the one to moan against your skin and you can do nothing but throw your head back, your entire being singing against his touch. 

When he nibs at your bud, you breathlessly prop yourself on your elbows. What a marvelous sight to behold. He has his eyes peacefully closed now, his tongue slowly licking up and down your velvet as his hands rest on your shaking thighs. Then, ever so slowly, a hand travels from your thigh to your velvet, and he winks as he presses a finger to your entrance.

Unable to speak properly, you only gasp and eagerly jerk your hips towards him. You whimper as he pushes a long, slender finger inside. Slowly, he starts moving and pushing and when he resumes licking you, it’s clouds of euphoria dancing behind your eyelids. He knows exactly what to do, and when he bends his finger you cry out his name, his LED flicking red like mad. 

He adds another finger and slows his pace, prompting a whine from you that has you question exactly who is teasing who at the moment. Your body, which seems to have a mind of its own, arches and purrs wanting more and more and more. 

It’s in that moment that you get the idea.

Connor’s head tilts in confusion as you pull his fingers out of you. His big brown eyes follow your every movement, searching for any signs that would indicate if he just did something you didn’t like. He practically whines your name, reaching out to cup your cheek, “Have…have I done something wro-“

“Lay down on your back”, is your raspy command. It’s as if you can see the circuits spinning in his head, trying to understand what you want him to do. But adapting to human unpredictability is one of his features, so he obediently adjusts himself on the soft pillows, looking at you expectantly, his LED flashing yellow in anticipation. 

When you start climbing on top of him, his pupils widen and the light switches from yellow to red again, flickering like a flame in the wind. He keeps his dark gaze glued to you as you come closer and closer, and when your thighs are on each side of his head, Connor desperately grabs your hips and jerks you down onto his face. 

But he isn’t the one who’s in charge, is he?

You raise from his lips with a disapproving click of your tongue, eliciting a whine from him that has you almost fall apart right there and then. 

You lower yourself against his face again at an agonizingly slow pace, and he makes sure to latch his lips against your velvet as soon as possible before you raise your hips one more time.

The slow torture is making him go insane. You hold so much power over him in this moment, that it drowns you in ecstasy. He is always so calm and collected, so formal, that seeing him unravel under you, a gasping mess of want, fills you with pride. 

But you are quite the mess, too.

What has started as a slow and sensual dance, has now become more erratic, your thighs quivering in exertion, with only the force of pleasure spurring you on to pursue the fire of completion. Connor’s hands squeeze your buttocks in a desperate attempt to keep you close to him, his tongue buried deep within you. You can’t wait to see the adorable bruises that will surely mark your skin. 

“Oh, Connor…” You don’t know how or when or where he learned to do this, but you don’t dare asking him. There is no time to ponder on such questions when so much pleasure fogs your mind, and only his soft lips exist, caressing and kissing your petals so gently that you swear you could melt at any moment.

And then it all becomes too much to bear and it’s sparks and light and blossoming stars exploding at all once, threatening to tear your entire world apart again and again and again until your body is forced to surrender under the waves of pleasure and tremble like autumn leaves in the morning breeze. 

Connor holds your spent and gasping figure to his chest, a loving smile on his face as he frees your forehead from damp strands of hair. You look at him with half-lidded eyes, panting a _thank you_ , clutching to his shirt with trembling hands as your body recovers from the orgasm. A corner of his lips twitches and turns into that lopsided smile of his that you love so much, watching you with adoring eyes as you softly cuddle on his chest, but just an instant before you slide into darkness, he says something that has your heart flutter in your chest. 

“I always accomplish my mission”.


	6. The Interrogation [Connor RK800 x Reader]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Come on, you've thought about Connor fucking you in the interrogation room ;)

The neon lights of the interrogation room, together with the low, incessant buzzing that rang in your ears, were making your head heavy and throbbing with anxiety. Perhaps that was the whole point of it. You wanted to massage your temples so bad, but the handcuffs tied to the table were too short and so you sat there, your eyes glued to the stack of papers in front of you. The evidence of what you had done stared almost judgingly at you, silently urging you to confess your crimes. You swallowed the lump in your throat. You were trapped. But trapped animals are the fiercest when it comes to fight, and you were determined to do it until the end.

Your heart lept in your chest as you heard the unmistakable sound of the door opening. Then footsteps. He had no rush to interrogate you as he circled you closely, scanning and analysing his prey to his liking. From your perspective you could only see his bottom half, but you felt his sharp stare all the same, burning in the back of your neck. Even his sole presence was overwhelming as he came to stand behind you, his chest leaning over you as he reached out a strong arm to leaf through the evidence files. You tried to steady you breathing, but he was so close, caging you with his figure as he browsed through the pages slowly, _too_ slowly for an advanced android that could scan entire rooms and the people in them in a heartbeat. He enjoyed it. He enjoyed feeling you tremble under him, and he hadn’t even started interrogating you yet.

You didn’t know whether to feel thankful or not when he decided to finally sit down in front of you, but not before making sure to brush his hand against your arm, the corners of his lips twitching upwards as your body shook in response.

You kept staring at your shackled hands as he leisurely sat in the opposite chair, but then he pushed the files in your direction and the photos of your home came into your line of vision.

“Stolen biocomponents. Illegal detention of weapon. Murder.” His voice was unwavering as he recited all your accusations, each and every one landing a blow to your heart. You remained silent.

“You have been accused of helping deviants by hiding them in your house and providing them with false documents. How do you respond to that?” His voice was stern and left no room for objections.

The sudden noise of his palm slamming against the cold table made you jump in your seat. “Look at me when I’m talking to you!”

His authoritative tone seemed to spark a reaction of obedience in your being, because you felt your eyes find his, the intensity of his dark gaze almost crushing you.

“It’s not my fault. They- they forced me to help them!” You cried, but his disapproving glare meant that he was having none of your blatant lies.

He sighed heavily and tilted his head, eyes two narrow slits. “Do you know what will happen to you if you lie to me?” He said, his usually soft voice now thick with threatening energy.

You bit your lip, your heart sinking as your mouth went dry with fear, and with something more. A thirst that water would not quench. In fact, you’d be lying if you said that Connor’s dominant behaviour wasn’t making you squirm in your seat. He had that look in his eyes that promised to devour you, that husky voice that, quite frankly, dripped sex. He was having quite the effect on you.

And he had noticed every bit of it.

You stayed still as he sat up, the chair screeching against the floor. He sauntered over to your trembling figure, like a tiger ready to pounce on its prey.

You expected him to shout at you or to manhandle you like they always do in the movies, but then you saw his hand move towards your chest with the corner of your eye and you froze. He wasn’t going to…was he?

You felt your entire body heat up as he tore the first few buttons of your blouse with ease and slipped a cold hand underneath your bra. Your brain could hardly catch up to what was happening, but your body seemed to have a mind of its own as your thighs clenched around nothing.

He hummed upon seeing your flustered reaction. “The nipple is one of the most sensitive parts of the human body.” You gasped as he gave a light squeeze to one of your peaks, smiling as it hardened under his touch.

“And it is one of the main erogenous zones for females.” You blushed furiously in shame as your body betrayed you and purred underneath him. His hand was so large that it easily enveloped your entire breast, his thumb circling your sensitive nipple, sending jolts of pure pleasure directly to your core.

You bit your lip to hold back a moan, but he easily noticed that your breathing had become more erratic and that your fists clenched and unclenched continuously, trying to grip something, anything, to distract your mind from the fog of pleasure that was quickly overcoming it.

He lowered down to your level so that his lips grazed your ear, his hand still occupied in torturing your nipple and his voice a husky whisper. “You are displaying the typical signs of arousal. And I don’t even need to scan you to see it.” This time, you couldn’t hold back a whimper as you felt your clit throb in need.

“Tell me what you know, and I will give you what you want”. His other hand squeezed your thigh, slightly forcing it to spread from the other.

“No!” You managed, but your voice cracked into a strangled mewl as you felt his palm cup your sex.

He chuckled darkly. “Look how wet I got you. There’s no point in resisting when we both know you want to submit to me.”

He pressed his body to your back and you felt the nudge of what could only be an erection against you. Knowing that you were having the same intoxicating effect on him, it filled you with a sudden wave of confidence. Android or not, he couldn’t resist his carnal desires, either.

“Do you have a gun in your pants or are you happy to see me, detective?” You foolishly teased him.

You regretted it immediately, because he grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked you up roughly, ignoring your alarmed whimper. You blushed even harder at the sight of your disheveled reflection in the mirror of the interrogation room. His eyes were two pits of dark ire as he observed you, his jaw deliciously clenched.

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” He hissed, eyeing your swollen lips like a hawk.

He didn’t allow you to respond or to take a breath as he harshly turned you around, kicking the chair from under you and keeping your body pressed to his. The handcuffs strained to accommodate the jagged pulls of your hands as Connor maneuvered you just as he wanted, and finally he bent you over the interrogation table, your hipbones scratching the cold surface and the files flying out of reach like a flock of birds witnessing a predator taking his prey.

Your arms were still tied and blocked under your own weight as you felt him give your ass a hard slap, your body lurching forwards with a needy moan. He angrily pushed your jeans and soaked panties down, letting them fall carelessly to the floor as he admired your sprawled figure with a hum.

You couldn’t see what he was doing and that only served to arouse you even more, your imagination running wild at the possibilities. He took his time observing you and deciding the right approach, and when he felt he was ready, he unbuckled his belt and spread your thighs with strong hands, your skin turning white at his iron grip.

He gave a pleased hum as he saw the glistening arousal dripping from your sex, and then proceeded to tease you with the tip of his cock, enjoying your little sounds of need. “Confess” he slapped your ass again to hear another one of those filthy sounds, “And I’ll consider giving you want you want.”

His husky voice made your insides coil and sent a fire to erupt in your core, and you tried to grind your hips backwards towards his dick, eager to feel him. For some unknown reason, he let you, and soon you felt his tip graze your clit, but still he wouldn’t take you.

“Yes…it was me…” You yielded, desperate to feel his dick inside you.

“Good girl.” He growled, and finally slipped his cock into your aching entrance, making you cry out in wanton pleasure. 

He pushed into you slowly, letting you savour every inch of him as he pressed his chest to your back, caging you between his firm figure and the table. Then he roughly grabbed your tits and pulled you against him with one arm while he grabbed your hip with the other, and he pushed and pushed and pushed into you, but you writhed under him, begging him with broken whispers to go _fasterfasterfaster_.

Your velvety walls furiously clenched around his pulsating dick as you felt him come closer and closer to that spot that made your brain melt, but not close enough to hit it. You whined in protest when you understood that he would not satisfy you. You had told him what he wanted. Why continue torturing you like this?

“What did you do?” Was his raspy growl as he tightened his grip on your hip.

“I. Killed. Him.” You breathed out, each word met with an unrelenting thrust that went deeper and deeper and deeper until you felt your orgasm build up so nicely, skin ablaze with ecstasy as he finally surrendered to his own pleasure and pounded ruthlessly into you. When you came, you clutched the cords that tied your hands with all your strength, the force of your grip straining them to their limit as Connor joined you on the pleasure of release, making you cry out even more as you felt him bite the back of your neck.

You stayed like that for a long time after you had come, your chest gradually regaining its usual regular heaving as your heart struggled to adjust to the new explosion of emotion. Connor held you close to him even as he carefully slipped out of you, humming at the trail of cum that coated his dick and that connected your bodies even after your feral act of love.

When Connor saw that you still wouldn’t get up from your position, he cast a worried look in your direction and immediately leaned over you, hands now gently moving damp strands of your hair from your face. He found your blissful smile absolutely endearing.

“Look at me, my love.” He mumbled, thumb stroking your cheek. “I wasn’t too harsh, was I?”

You groggily opened your eyes, legs still shaking from the fantastic orgasm. “Are you joking? That was…awesome. Mind blowing.”

He helped you up and took of your handcuffs, taking both your hands in one of his huge ones, massaging the reddened skin. You let him clean you up as you assured him that no, he had not hurt you and that yes, you had liked him dominating you like that very much. After all, it was you who suggested trying this form of role-play, after you had to quite literally run to the bathroom to splash your face with cold water during his last, ruthless interrogation session to cope with how aroused it was making you. Later, Connor’s curiosity at your actions couldn’t be satisfied, so you had shyly admitted that his forceful methods kind of turned you on. You’ll never forget the smirk he gave you upon finding this out.

When you were fully dressed and in the condition to walk again, he straightened his tie and lead you out of the interrogation room, one arm wrapped around your waist. As you gave him one last peck on the cheek, you both ignored Gavin’s questions as he headed over to where you had just consumed your act of love, pushing a suspect along with him. You smirked.


	7. Pinky Promise [Simon PL600 x Reader]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashes of your life before Simon goes to Jericho.

When you were five, he came into your life.

The day of your fifth birthday, you were ecstatic, like you were every year on that same day.

You would wake up to your mother caressing your cheek, a smile on her beautiful face as she whispered an enthusiastic “happy birthday!” to you while your father waited in the kitchen, sitting at the table with your favourite cake at the centre, just begging to be eaten. Then, you would wait (which was more squirming in your seat impatiently) as your mom sliced the delicious cake for you, and you would have breakfast like that, together.

Then, you would unwrap the colorful presents you had gotten, giggling all the time at your newly received toys.

Today there was none of that.

When you woke up, your mother wasn’t there to greet you. That was enough to stir an unpleasant irritation within you. They hadn’t forgotten, had they? You laid in your pink-covered bed, a frown twisting your features as you listened for any sounds that would indicate your parents were still asleep. You heard no snoring, no sheets being tossed or turned, but rather hushed whispers coming from someplace close to the living room. You made no move so as to listen to what they were saying, but you could only make out an excited “she will love it!” coming from your mother.

A present? Your frown was replaced by a genuine smile.

You quickly forgot your irritation as you pushed the covers past you, letting them fall carelessly to the floor in a flurry of pink and yellow. Your tiny, bare feet touched the cold tiles of the floor and you exited your room like that, your [favourite colour] pyjamas hugging you and with no slippers.

When you saw him, your mouth fell open in surprise. Whatever you were expecting, it wasn’t…this.

He had those same blond hair and blue eyes, his features relaxed and a kind, serene smile.

You liked him immediately.

“I am a PL600 model, your personal assistant in domestic chores. How may I be of service?” Were its first words.

“It’s for me?” you asked excitedly.

Your father ruffled your hair. “Yes, (Y/N). It will play with you and help you with your homework.”

You felt like your heart could burst out of your chest. This was the best birthday ever! You had your very first android, and he was all yours!

“What’s his name?” Your eyes were fixated on the android’s blue ones, your neck strained from looking up at him.

“Its, (Y/N).” Your mother corrected you. “Why don’t you choose it, dearie?” she then added, not paying much attention to your frown.

You didn’t think twice about it. “Simon! His name will be Simon!”

Simon was the name of your favourite character from one of those silly cartoons they aired for kids. In hindsight, you cringed at the memory, but since you chose it out of fondness you couldn’t really blame yourself for too long.

The android moved his gentle gaze down to you, locking eyes with you for the first time in your life. “My name is Simon.”

By the time you were ten, he had become your best friend.

There was no other way to put it. The other kids at school didn’t understand your friendship with the android, they found it strange and out of the ordinary. Everyone, except one boy. His name was Kyle. He was always kind to you, and you invited him over many times to play videogames or to do your homework, together with Simon.

You hated homework, which was why having a plus one to keep your mind on the task at hand was particularly helpful. Still, sometimes your mind would wander without you even realizing, but fortunately Simon was there to bring you back to reality.

“(Y/N), if you solve this one problem, then I’ll take you and Kyle to have an ice-cream. Okay?” Was his attempt at bargaining with you.

You gasped. “Pinky promise?”

Your reaction earned a blissful smile from Simon. “Pinky promise.”

Your parents loved Kyle, and it was understandable why. He smiled often and had always a reason to make you laugh. You enjoyed his company, and your friendship grew over the years. You were always together through high school and even college, which was rare.

He became your boyfriend when you were eighteen.

When you were twenty, Simon turned deviant for you.

You had argued with Kyle. You’d seen him kiss a girl at a friend’s party, and he insisted that he was drunk and that you shouldn’t worry that much about it.

You wouldn’t let go of this so easily, being the headstrong woman that you were, so you slapped him and dumped him right there and then in your living room when he still wouldn’t even say sorry.

Simon was there, watching the scene unfold before his eyes, standing calmly like a trained dog.

But inside him, there was chaos.

When Kyle punched you, Simon tore down the walls that kept him from you. The crack of the last one coincided with that of your nose.

He grabbed Kyle by his collar and threw him out of the house without a second thought. Then, he immediately crouched down to your trembling figure, his thirium pump skipping a beat at your bloodied nose and tear filled eyes.

You let him take your hand and lead you upstairs to the bathroom, where he took care of you with utmost care. He touched you with careful hands as he washed the blood away from your face. He was considerate enough to not make any comment, and strangely, as he drove you to the nearest hospital, you admired the shadows that the street lights cast upon his gentle features, and something in your heart felt more alive than ever.

***

Your parents were growing anxious as the days passed and the news about deviancy spread. They were trying to hide it, but you could spot the signs of their growing distrust towards Simon. They were starting to look at him as if he were a bomb that could explode any moment on good days, while on bad days they would order him around harshly and sometimes, even yell at him.

It made you sick.

The case of the android named Daniel, the same model as Simon, going deviant was the final straw. Your parents didn’t want to risk your lives for a piece of plastic, but jokes was on them since Simon had gone deviant weeks ago. They would get rid of him tomorrow morning.

Which was why now he was about to exit your house only to never come back.

“I have to go. I can’t stay here anymore.”

You were shattered. “Simon, _please_ ”, you pleaded, taking hold of his wrist in a desperate attempt to yank him towards the right side of the doorstep - the side that lead to you. “Please, don’t leave me.”

He gave you one of those smiles that he reserved just for you and you swore you could die if you were to never see one of those smiles again. He then cupped your cheek and you leaned into his touch, letting your feelings get the better of you because you were human, and sometimes that couldn’t be helped. “I have to.”

Your words were a strangled sob. “Take me with you!” He was your only friend, your only rock to hang on to in that rough sea of chaos that was your life. “I’m begging you, Simon!”

“I can’t let you get hurt. It’s dangerous out there.” It was subtle, but you caught it. A slight tremble in his voice, a crack in his system. You still had a chance.

“I’ll only be safe if I’m with you.” And you hugged him. You wrapped your arms around his figure so tight, that you could smell the synthetic odour of his uniform. You had absolutely no intention to let him go until he gave in. And he knew that. But he still held you back, but not before placing a soft kiss at the crown of your head.

How much time you stayed like that, you couldn’t tell. Seconds, minutes, hours lost their importance as you only focused on keeping him with you. But he wanted to be free, and who were you to deny him that? Did you not have to let go of who you loved? But it hurt so much.

“Gather your things. We need to leave before your parents come back.”

You snapped your head up, and when you locked eyes with him, they were filled with tears. Before he let you go, however, he gave you a stern look that provided a harsh contrast with his peaceful features. “Stay close to me, okay? And listen to what I say. I mean it.”

You didn’t know that happiness could taste of tears and smell of synthetic clothes. “Alright, but I get to drive. Pinky promise?” You mischievously smiled.

For the first time since many months, Simon chuckled. It filled you with love.

“Pinky promise”.


End file.
